With spring right around the corner, I’ve been compelled to sit, dear reader, with all the things that are and take “inventory.” Yes, there is a lot of looking at the stuff at home, but also look: at the people who I surround myself, the books I’m drawn to right now (or the ones I choose to keep), the energy I am putting into projects, and in general how the day flows.
These post-time change mornings have me sitting with a hot mug of water and lemon and looking at what seeds I’m planting and what needs to be tended to in order to bloom. After all, the boys are growing and there is stuff that needs to be decluttered. And there are memories that need to be packed away from view in order to make space for what is to come. But really, as this spring approaches I know there is space I can take up in my own life.
Recently at the bookshop, I had a great conversation with a stranger.
I had recently broke my own heart again and was feeling tender in all the ways that I do: soft and loving, deciding to be myself fully or try to approach things like someone else, and as always letting the soft animal of my body love what it loves (flowers, books, sunrises, words). Sitting in the window writing, I knew tears had gathered in my eyes and were pressing to be released. I know this look is hard for people to see, but I don’t worry if I make others uncomfortable any more. Music movies, moments witnessed, and sometimes my own writing moves me.
This older woman handed me a napkin and said she understood.
”You must be an artist,” she mused.
“Are the tears the give away?”
“Of course, only those who have the eye (she winked at me) let the little things destroy and light them up.”
And just like that she wandered on through the shelves of books.
Sure, it felt great to be acknowledged and maybe be perceived as what I have been striving for daily (after all what does an artist really look like except themselves). It felt like such a nice reminder and alignment of all the unraveling I have been doing all these months. The process of shedding stories about yourself from others is deep work, my friends, and so is the recovery of self process. Mostly I come back to yoga, writing, watercolors, hugs, ride or die energy!
Over this last week, I have been writing a little e-book on yoga + creativity. Over the years I have taught this workshop many times and it is one of my favorite intersections (thank you B for this word! Human is what we are is forever in my heart). Truly, I use my practice so much when I am creating or trying to be creative. (Also, I can’t wait to share this little joy when it’s ready)